


Drenched

by a_very_smol_frog



Series: Precipitation [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Egregious Use of Metaphors, Happy Ending, M/M, Makeup, Rain is the Main character, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_very_smol_frog/pseuds/a_very_smol_frog
Summary: Even though he was drenched, Atsumu finally felt warm.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Precipitation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992166
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Drenched

**Author's Note:**

> With angst there must be joy. This is my attempt to bring balance.
> 
> Also I think I'm going to make this a series with other ships so be on the lookout for more pain.

The heavens opened; God said with a mighty roar “let it rain”, and so it began to pour. 

Relentless in its mission to drown the earth, it fell: continuously. The sun couldn’t penetrate the dense accumulation of clouds, and the world was shrouded in a damp darkness. 

The flowerbeds became watery graves for tulips and daffodils. Muddy rivers formed in the lawn, carving up the fescue to create zig zagging canyons and valleys. Under the rain’s careful ministrations an entirely new world was forged under the waterlogged conditions. 

Inside the house was warm, but the chill crept through the cracks and under the door frames. Like a phantom it hung in the air—clinging to Atsumu as he walked through the empty halls of his home. Maybe he was the ghost, clutching to something that once was, and doomed to spend eternity flipping through the same script, hoping for a different ending. 

The branches of the trees outside swayed dangerously with the gale, tipping and bending in an attempt to keep up with the dance. They creaked and groaned under the ruthless pace but still they held on, doing everything in their power to keep up with the fickle whimsy of the wind. 

Raindrops pelted against the windows and filled the air with their incessant knocking. Like bloodhounds, they had found the last dry place in the world and would not stop their assault until it too became drenched. Atsumu stayed sequestered away, protected by the solid brick walls, and no matter how much huffing and puffing the storm did, the stone would not be blown down. 

His soul felt heavy; like a ship with a hole in the bow slowly taking on water. He was sinking beneath the frigid waves of the Pacific ocean, and he couldn’t find the energy to fight the current. The light slowly faded away, and he grew accustomed to the chill filling his lungs. Brief flashes of memories filled with lemon scented air and midnight black curls made the ache worse and the numbness all the more welcome. 

It was one foot on the platform and the other on the train. On the horizon was a life full of potential and sunshine, but Atsumu had always loved the rain, and had become intimately acquainted with the dreariness.

He didn’t remember what it felt like to be warm. The sun was hot, and he had always loved to feel the heat beating into his skin, but he enjoyed the fogginess of an autumn morning just the same. The crackling heat of a fire was soothing when it was contained, but one misstep and it grew untamed and feral. No, Atsumu much preferred the gentle caress of a blanket over his shoulders, and as long as he clung to it it would never fall.

He should have gripped it with white knuckles, because now he sat bare to the elements when all he wanted was the security of the only thing that ever felt like _home_.

Even now, when he sat on the floor and watched the beige cotton turn endlessly in the dryer, he knew it was going to be a poor imitation for what he truly wanted. Everything else felt like a cheap parlor trick after you had already experienced the breathtaking truth of real magic. After you felt the crackle against your skin and a stirring in your heart—that excitement, that pleasure, that _bliss—_ would never be able to be imitated. Atsumu had had lightning in a bottle and like a fool he had opened the lid. 

Thunder boomed outside, and the windows quaked in fear. Even the universe was yelling at him, like the voices in his head that kept him twisting and turning into the small hours of the morning. His bed felt too vast, and the sheets and long lost the comforting scent of eucalyptus and lemon. He piled pillows into the space in a pathetic attempt to feel more secure, but the soft feathers were nothing like the sturdiness he had grown to adore. 

There was a sharp knock against the door; a trick of the wind, but a few moments later it came again. Two distinct raps of knuckles against wood. Atsumu pulled the blanket from the dryer, wrapping it around himself in hopes that it would be some kind of protection against the pity he was undoubtedly about to welcome into his home. It was a common occurrence now, thick in everyone’s voices and drowning in their eyes. 

He didn’t want it. He didn’t want anything. Well, he did want one thing. 

The cotton radiated heat against his skin as he shuffled across the lifeless oak floorboards. A lifetime ago the honeyed wood had heard the sweet melody of music drifting through the air, and felt the gentle sway of two hearts beating in sync. 

Atsumu opened the front door and wondered if the rain was playing tricks on him now. Was light refracting off the mist and creating a shimmering illusion of was his heart yearned for the most? When he reached out to clasp a hand around a bony wrist it was solid, frigid, and saturated from the freezing torrent, but it was real. 

He yanked at it and pulled it close to his chest.

The rain still fell in sheets outside, and the air still held its frigid bite, but Atsumu didn’t care as he filled his lungs with the scent of lemon and eucalyptus. For weeks he had been mindlessly wandering, a lost traveler with no compass or map, but somehow he had managed to stumble back to his home. 

Warmth from the blanket around his shoulders finally managed to permeate his skin, and Atsumu relaxed into the embrace. 

He wouldn’t let go this time. Water saturated his shirt and sat icy against his chest, but Atsumu didn’t notice it. Even though he was drenched, Atsumu finally felt warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/a_very_smolfrog) for updates on fics, haikyuu brain rot, and other shenanigans.


End file.
